


Smile! Sweet! Sister! Sadistic! Surprise! Service!

by feversan



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Angst, Boys in Skirts, Break Up, Crack Treated Seriously, Established Relationship, Femboy Hooters AU, Feminization, Fluff, Humiliation kink, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mainly jongsang and seongjoong centric, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Woosan and Yungi are established
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:47:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28061157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feversan/pseuds/feversan
Summary: "You took me to Hooters? The place renowned for having average-at-best chicken fingers and men looking at women inappropriately?""See, that's what I thought too, but I heard this one's different somehow? Unconventional, I heard.""Unconventional how...?""The workers are all exclusively men to begin with, and I heard the dress code is mostly feminine clothing. Skirts, stockings, heels, crop tops and such. At least that's what my friend told me, but I guess we'll see if he was telling the truth. And if their chicken fingers are better than average."(aka the femboy hooters au that started as a joke and spiraled out of control)
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Kang Yeosang, Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 35
Kudos: 91





	1. finger-licking good

**Author's Note:**

> Hey foolish readers. A few notes before you read
> 
> -This originally started as a joke, because "haha ateez femboy hooters what would happen". Now it's almost like crack treated seriously, but not. If anything seems like it wouldn't actually happen IRL, that's because this was a meme before I gave it a plot, and I refuse to change it. Theres so many weird curveballs guys, I think it's worth sticking around for
> 
> -This has no smut. There's spícý scenes, but anything smutty is satirical and/or implied. ESPECIALLY the humiliation kink. It's a valid kink, I just used it to make some jokes. Again, this is mostly crack with some life lessons tied in.
> 
> -Although it was _supposed_ to be crack, it starts out light and comedic until following chapters happen. It actually gets pretty heavy later on, so please be mindful.
> 
> \- This is a work of fiction and does in no way reflect how ateez actually are IRL. Please respect the actual artists. Separate yourself comPLETELY from how they are here. Yeosang is not actually a feral demon that wears skirts and guzzles chicken although the idea is funny.
> 
> -i don't own Hooters. I mean, that's obvious but I don't want anyone coming for me.
> 
> -The updates won't be on a regular schedule and will probably be infrequent. I have work and highschool to finish, but I'll try to update as much as I can!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Femboys. Everywhere.

"You took me to Hooters? The place renowned for having average-at-best chicken fingers and men looking at women inappropriately?" 

"See, that's what I thought too, but I heard this one's different somehow? Unconventional, I heard."

"Unconventional how...?"

"The workers are all exclusively men to begin with, and I heard the dress code is mostly feminine clothing. Skirts, stockings, heels, crop tops and such. At least that's what my friend told me, but I guess we'll see if he was telling the truth. And if their chicken fingers are better than average." 

Jongho blanked, round eyes staring unimpressed holes through Seonghwa who now looked as if he was about to backpedal on his idea. It's a school night of all days, and Seonghwa suggests eating at Hooters- not just any Hooters- but a hotspot for femboys too? Jongho just thinks Seonghwa wants to blow off some steam and use the staff as a mental image for when he takes his forty-minute shower later, and he has to suppress an eye roll that would reach the back of his skull. The older said he was paying, but no amount of money can replace the time Jongho should be spending working on yet another five-page economics paper.

"Your idea of going to dinner on a Thursday night is to eat bland food while looking at boys in skirts? What's the difference from a regular Hooters and this Hooters besides the gender? You're the exact same as a straight old man, except you're bi, but you get my point." Jongho raised a judgemental eyebrow, watching as Seonghwa's resolve crumbled right in front of him. It was too easy to sway Seonghwa one way or the other, and Jongho feels almost bad as he looks at the disaster that began to unfold. 

"I mean- I'm in the mood for chicken, and- I don't know, Jongho, just- Fuck you're right. I'm curious about the femboys, but that's normal, isn't it? Aren't you curious too? This place _has_ been getting popular recently." Seonghwa spluttered over his words, every sentence sounding more unsure than the last. Jongho gave him a quizzical look while unbuckling his seatbelt. 

"No, not really, but I'll appease your curiosity this one night. You're also proofreading my paper tonight, no buts," Jongho put starkly. 

"I graduated over half a year ago, you know I didn't retain any of that knowledge," Seonghwa pouted. Jongho knew the older was an attractive man, but seeing the equivalent of an elder brother pout like a child made him want to throw Seonghwa out of the car window.

"You were literally a literature major, can't you help with one paper?" Jongho questioned. 

"I wrote papers analyzing what the color black symbolizes about a character's inner turmoil, not how to save the crumbling stock market." Jongho admits that was a fair point, but he wouldn't let Seonghwa have the satisfaction of knowing that. Without replying, Jongho opened the door of Seonghwa's sleek car, careful to remember that the car rides low and the possibility of tripping over his own feet was very much an option. 

Seonghwa did the same, his long legs reaching over the side of the car with a practiced ease. Jongho could tell he took the time to be particular about the way he dressed, his black jeans accentuating the length of his legs and the low cut lavender shirt showing off a row of defined collarbones and silver jewelry. He even styled his hair (Jongho wasn't sure if the color was lavender or silver, it looked like a strange in-between) into a tasteful swoop over his left eye, and Jongho has to remember that his roommate is conventionally attractive to others even if the younger enjoys teasing him at Seonghwa's every waking second. 

Jongho himself looked dashing as well, long blazer hugging his sqaured shoulders at the just the right angle and designer bag slung over one side as if he was a model for fashion week. Jongho has always been an expensive man, so it was really nothing new, but going into a Hooters where the staff probably gets paid a measly wage that only gets them by and nothing more felt wrong. He felt like a sugar daddy, and he was barely twenty years old; just out of his teen years. 

"You weren't lying about the popularity. This place is packed as hell," Jongho commented, noticing rows of cars condensed in perfect compact lines. The fresh air of the season nipped at his nose, and Jongho was glad he could finally wear his preferred fashion in appropriate weather. Yes, he still wore high collars and blazers in summer, but he was willing to suffer for his modest fashion. His wardrobe consisted of only black and muted earth tones, so he really had no choice. 

"We look like we're about to become someone's sugar daddies." Seonghwa voiced Jongho's thoughts. 

"You'd like that wouldn't, you?" Jongho teases, almost impressed at how fast the other's face reddened with an obvious blush. Seonghwa was so easy to tease, so easy to play with like a toy, but Jongho has to remember that it also makes the older a doormat sometimes. If someone actually _did_ ask Seonghwa out tonight, he'd say yes regardless of whether he wanted to or not. Jongho always has to ask the guideline questions of "Is this what you really want?" and "Are you sure?" They always make the older think twice, but then again, Jongho knows Seonghwa always thinks twice, or even thrice before ending up back where he started. 

Jongho supposes it was the perks of being a literature major who had to answer question upon question asking for "the best possible answer" when that was really subjective in itself. 

Being in economics didn't seem any better, though.

 _I have so many other better things to do right now,_ Jongho thought, moving red strands of hair from his field of vision. They were opening the door now, the object covered in tacky pink ribbons and various posters and flyers seemingly dunked in clumps of glitter. Jongho grimaced, imagining how long it would take to wash the glitter off if he so much as _touched_ an atom of his finger to it. He looked over at Seonghwa, expecting the clean-freak in his roommate to agree with him, but the older looked almost in awe of the tacky frills and ribbons adorning the doorway. 

Maybe he has a thing for glitter and ribbons? It wasn't entirely out of character- not that it had to _be_ in character. 

Everything seemed like a regular Hooters save for the 18+ up sign that hung loosely on the entrance wall as if it were an afterthought. Jongho guessed the age restriction didn't really matter. 

Jongho almost forgot the dress code until a rather tall, broad man with cotton candy-like hair strolled up to host them. He was dressed in at least three shades of pink, skirt and knee-high stockings complimenting his oversized sweater as it hung loose enough to show defined collarbones and a hint of his top shoulder. The man's hair had small clips in it as well, and Jongho assumed the whole innocent, pastel fit wouldn't work for someone as tall as the man stood, but he admits the host pulls it off extremely well. The host did resemble a puppy, so maybe the innocent charm came off as a natural disposition. 

Seonghwa looked ready to risk it all for this man who looked way too pretty in pink for Jongho to feel right, and he had to nudge the older man so his reputation wasn't tarnished from staring disrespectfully (maybe respectfully?) at a Hooters employee. 

"How many of us tonight?" The host asked the complimentary question, and Jongho read the silver nametag pinned to the man's pink mosaic of a sweater.

_Yunho._

"Uh, t-two," Seonghwa stuttered, answering gracefully for the both of them.

Yunho- Jongho assumed the nametag was right and that he could read- led them to a clean booth close to the bar area, freshly bussed with new packets of sweetener filling the ceramic containers. Jongho mustered up the courage to order drinks for the both of them (water for Seonghwa because he's lame and a lemonade for himself) and continued to drink up the glitzy atmosphere. 

Femboys. Everywhere. 

Jongho felt a deep-seated desire for _something_ he just couldn't place a finger on as he watched the sway of pleated skirts in various lengths flood his view. The color range alone was enough to blind him; the entire color wheel was present ranging from sensual reds to lively yellows to pure lacey whites. Fishnets, stockings, heels, chokers, necklaces- Jongho didn't know where to look. Seated awkwardly in his brown neutral tones, Jongho doesn't think he's ever seen as many colors and fashion choices in one place before. 

Objectively, he's always liked skirts on other people, but living where he does now never allowed for men to be as free as they are here, dressing up how they choose and getting paid for it. They're paid slightly above minimum wage and they probably get all sorts of bigots and perverts coming in for the sake of being assholes, but his point still stands. It felt strangely accepting despite the fact that Jongho was completely out of his element. 

Looking across the table, Seonghwa seemed as if he was ready to explode or implode all over himself- Jongho couldn't tell which.

"I'm having a relapse of my bi awakening, except like, twenty times worse," he admitted through a hot blush. "Girls in skirts? Now boys in skirts? I'm in pain." 

Jongho fumbled with the end of his blazer, wanting to agree with Seonghwa but keeping his inner thoughts repressed. He'd still rather be doing his paper at this time. 

"You're acting like we're at a club. This is a restaurant, so don't expect some poor sap to follow you home because you're horny for men in skirts." Jongho teased. Predictably, Seonghwa opened his mouth to protest in a futile attempt, but closed his mouth immediately upon seeing a waiter place two complimentary cold drinks on the table. Jongho doesn't think he's ever seen Seonghwa compose himself that fast, but one look at their waiter made at least thirty light bulbs flash bright, neon colors in his head.

 _Hongjoong-_ as the nametag suggested. Small, petite, pretty blue hair, and holy fuck- wearing cat ears and a collar. The man looked like an NPC straight out of a JRPG with his maid-inspired dress that engulfed his tiny form and black dainty flats complimenting the aesthetic. He was everything Seonghwa liked to ruin, and he's almost impressed the older man managed to not embarrass himself upon immediate eye contact with their small waiter. The collar had a mischievous little bell attached to it, jingling a tiny amount any time the man- Hongjoong tilted his head like a lost kitten. No wonder this place is popular; the men so far were all absolute feminine gods.

"Hello, my name is Hongjoong and I'll be your waiter and manager tonight." 

_Shit,_ he was the manager too?

"Have either of you been here before? It's a little new to most people, but everything is fine, you know, as long as you're not a bigot." Jongho suppressed a snort.

"We're two bi men, no worries." Seonghwa added, displaying a charming half-smile that showed a row of straight teeth.

"Phew, that makes this easier, then. Most people here are either allies or apart of the community. We do it for the girls and the gays, so it makes this place feel all the more comfortable. It's rare for places like this to be open and succeed." Hongjoong had an absolutely adorable smile, fluffy blue bangs making him seem younger than his years (as well as his height, but Jongho himself wasn't all that tall either). Seonghwa must be metaphorically punching the air right now. 

"Well, anyway, are you ready to order, or do you still need time? Maybe a drink besides water?"

Neither have them have even touched the menu yet, and Jongho knew Seonghwa would try to fish for more time with the the busiest man in the establishment. Jongho just wants to be as convenient as possible for the employees like the good Gen Z kid he is. 

"Um, any recommendations?" Seonghwa asked. Hongjoong giggled a little, his voice surprisingly deep and throaty as the air passed from between his teeth. 

"We're a different kind of Hooters, yes, but still a Hooters. We have chicken, salad, burgers, and maybe steak if you're feeling a little risky." 

Jongho appreciated the gentle sarcasm- it made the conversation feel natural (although a manager should advocate for the business, but he hates business kids with a passion, so fuck the business). 

"Don't get me wrong, we have plenty of types of wings and flavors as well as appetizers. There's actually a surprising amount of choices on our menu. One of our employees actually insisted that he tweak the sauce recipes for the chicken, so I'd say go for barbecue wings. Those are his specialty." Hongjoong talked with hands as he listed every item off, Jongho noticing he tended to tuck in his thumb as he spoke, a trait so seemingly childlike that he almost forgot about the sheer white thigh highs that accentuated his sculpted legs.

"We also have a 20 wing deal for only 18.99. Kind of a steal if you ask me," Hongjoong winked, petite, sharp nose scrunching. 

Seonghwa swallowed, watching the sweat from his drink drip onto the table as he mostly likely wondered what to say next. He caved and finally ordered.

"I guess I'll have those barbecue wings, see how they compare to the other Hooters two miles away." Seonghwa lifted one corner of his mouth into a cheeky smile. "You guys are really monopolizing the brand, aren't you?" 

"I'd say we're fair competition," Hongjoong replied, feigning ignorance.

"Hm, don't know, I think the chicken is what makes this place stand out so much." Seonghwa's sarcasm was a new look for him, if Jongho was going to be honest. But the way his friend didn't even try to hide his curious stare at Hongjoong's jet black skirt and innocent overalls made him want to throw himself into traffic nonetheless. Once again, this place is a _restaurant,_ not a _club._

Hongjoong still let another airy giggle escape his petite lips, and it seemed genuine to Jongho, so maybe Seonghwa's lacking skills were somehow working. 

"Well, I really need to check on our other patrons, so I'll get this to our kitchen and then be back to ask you about our life-changing wings, soon. Sound good?" 

"Peachy." Seonghwa's smirk didn't falter for even a second. Jongho was almost impressed, but his urge to throw up countered any and all praise. 

"Shame you guys didn't come here on a Friday, though." Hongjoong put in, lips pouty and head tilted in with purposeful innocence, looking as naive as a pure church boy. Jongho would say Hongjoong is more than what he seems, already appealing to Seonghwa's likening of pretty small boys who'd call him handsome at his every waking second, so he wouldn't put it past the manager to have a darker side. There's no way someone is _this_ naturally angelic without trying. 

It still had him wondering what happens on Fridays, though.

Hongjoong turned to leave, sashaying his pleated skirt and black tail a little too rhythmically for Jongho to think that was just the man's natural cadence. 

Seonghwa eyed the small man until he disappeared from his view, mouth slightly ajar and his tongue peeking from the corner of his mouth. God, Jongho was glad he's not a horny loser. 

"That was beyond painful to watch". Jongho voiced his thoughts, scrunching his eyebrows and rubbing at his temples as if the interaction was enough to give him a headache. "You saw someone cute and petite and decided you wanted to be all alpha male again." 

Said alpha male blushed, reddened cheeks evident even through the layer of foundation. Correction: Seonghwa _pretended_ to be the tough, cool bad boy, but he was really an overgrown fetus confused at the machinations around him. Jongho _knows_ Seonghwa cuddles with stuffed animals at night and rewatches Sailor Moon every fall because of childhood nostalgia (and for the aesthetic). He needs to stop pretending, but then again, Jongho himself doesn't have much of a personality either. 

"Anyway, I wonder what happens here on Fridays? Though thinking about it, maybe he said that as a ploy to get you to come back." Jongho winked intuitively. 

"G-Guess I'll have to come back tomorrow and find out. My wallet really can't handle paying for another night out, though." Seonghwa rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to do with his hands. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom... for a few minutes..." Jongho raised an eyebrow at his friend's crypticness.

"You gonna jerk off in a Hooters bathroom or something?" Jongho said, not keeping in mind the crowded setting. Seonghwa spluttered over his next set of words, eyes making almost perfect circles as he stood up like a deer caught in blinding headlights. 

"N-No! I just need to take an actual piss! Stop pegging me as a horny sex demon!" Seonghwa's voice was in between a whisper and a yell, his animated face screwed up in genuine fear and embarrassment. 

"Weird, because no one's pegged you at all." Jongho teased, mustering up more unneeded courage to prod at his poor friend's ego.

Seonghwa gave no response, not even an eye roll as he put his hands to face in an attempt to hide his shame. He scurried off like some big-tit anime girl, tail metaphorically between his legs as he beelined for the back of the restaurant where the restroom sign hung in all its rainbow, neon glory. 

Now alone and wanting to seem like he had something to do, Jongho took out his phone. There weren't any new messages, the latest one from Seonghwa and a few from his mom days prior. Sometimes he thinks he should try and make friends, especially being in college and at the prime of his youth or whatever, but Jongho likes it better alone.

Busying himself with his explore page for a measly couple of minutes and being bombarded with the disgusting amount of _I ain't never seen two pretty best friends_ memes at least four times, his attention naturally drifted, unfocused eyes surveying the chaotic atmosphere full of color and sparkles. It was enough to overstimulate his poor vision, Jongho not knowing where, what or _who_ to focus on, too many colors and fabrics blending together into one muddled, gaudy mess. He made out the sound of a cup breaking and the sight of another tall man- about as tall as Yunho frantically sweeping up the glassy remains, his eyes equally as glassy as he apologized to Hongjoong who had the misfortune of appearing as the chaos unfolded, balancing an array of trays skillfully on each arm. 

Jongho's focus was pulled to two other waiters seemingly on break, the men both dressed in matching black lace tops and laughing loud enough to pry Jongho's attention towards them. One was considerably louder, but no one around seemed to mind the high decibels of sound attacking their ears and rattling their glasses of drinks from the sheer amount of frequency. Seonghwa usually took forever in the bathroom doing who knows what, probably freshening himself up for a certain blueberry as Jongho sits drowning in his own boredom. 

A flash of gold and white catches his eye, a faint form of a person appearing from behind the bar area a few table lengths away. Looking up for anything to be of interest, Jongho was met with the stare of a man- sharp boxy eyes dusted in glitter, petite lips painted in a dainty red tint, and golden hair done in a low ponytail. The man was dressed in an almost blinding shade of white, but the rather simple color palette of his cropped sweater cleansed his eyes if only for a moment. Jongho thought he was absolutley angelic looking, yes, but his attention was mostly drawn to the large tray of about twelve wings sitting in front of the man- and also why he seemed to be drilling holes through Jongho with the intensity of his stare. 

Jongho guessed it was the man's break time, deciding to chill at the bar and eat chicken to unwind a little, so he wasn't too concerned- yet anyway. The staring was a little too obvious for Jongho's taste, but he'll let it pass because the man is absolutely serene looking, seemingly carved to perfection by Michaelangelo himself if he could be so bold to admit. 

Minutes passed, Seonghwa wasn't back yet, and the mysterious angel-faced stranger was _still_ piercing holes through Jongho's poor form. In fact, Jongho doesn't think he's left the man's gaze for even a second. He hasn't even seen the man blink, and as ethereal as the stranger may be, Jongho is sufficiently creeped out. 

He decided to message Seonghwa, maybe pester him enough to get here before the damn building closes for the night and be a barrier between him and the stranger. Typing out a hurried _where tf are you? this one guy keeps staring at me from the bar and tbh I thought he was cute at first but now im just bugged out,_ he dared to face his secret admirer- if he could even call him that- and decided to glare as hard as he could. Jongho was no macho man, but he thinks he can be intimidating enough if the situation arises, and there was definitely a situation now.

As Jongho braved another look, expecting the strange man who resembled a harmless cloud to somehow be closer in proximity like a cheap horror movie. 

He wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted him. Nothing in his brain was expecting the array of chicken before the man to be halfway devoured in a span of a few minutes, especially the absolute mess he's made of himself in the process. 

Jongho's no clean freak like Seonghwa, and he's known messy eaters, but nothing came close to the almost crime scene amount of sauce that coated the man's fingers. There was a bucket amount of sauce lathered on the wings, dripping like his inevitable tears Jongho would be crying later after sacrificing his productivity for _this._

The man was still staring, and the addition of the strange sauce-lube coating his fingers made it exponentially worse, situation dropping like the country's failing stock market.

Jongho tried looking at the name plate above the man's chest, wondering if he could catch the man's name to report him for the saucy form of harrassment. Yeo- something? Curse his deteriorating eyesight, maybe he should've used the blue-light glasses Seonghwa gave him for his birthday. Realizing his subsequent squinting could be interpreted as a smoulder too late, Jongho paid the price. 

The man brought his sufficiently lubed fingers closer to his mouth slowly until Jongho watched in horror as the stranger's petite lips wrapped around his digits, sucking on a few of them until he released them with a barely audible 'pop'. He did this all while eyeing Jongho, a devilish smirk dancing across his lips as a sinful tongue licked over the remnants. 

The man winked, and Jongho suppressed the urge to bury himself alive right in the middle of the establishment. He broke eye contact, scrambling for solace in a panicked text message to Seonghwa who, by the way, was still in the bathroom after ten fucking minutes. 

_Seonghwa pls he just sucked his own fingers right in front of me help_

_Hwa I'm getting harrassed hes looking at me like im his next fucking meal_

_WHERE ARE YOU ASSHOLE_

_THiS BITCH WAS COVERED IN SAUCE AND HE LICKED ALL OF IT OFF I CANT MAKE THIS SHIT UP WHERE AR EYOU_

_Does no one else see this???? This whole??? Thing that just happened right in front my fucking salad???_

Remembering Hongjoong's anecdote from earlier about one of the employee's special recipes, it had Jongho genuinely curious to see if they were that mouthwatering- enough to use it as a device for flirting. It was besides the point.

Desperately ignoring the scene before him, Jongho frantically keysmashed until his savior for the night finally cleaned himself up enough to text back. 

_Sorry, I was fixing my hair! Do I need to beat someone up for you jjong?_

Well, it's a little too late for that. Also, Jongho could bench press twice Seonghwa's weight, so if anyone was going to beat someone up, it'd be yours truly. 

_Pls just get your horny ass back here. Also you spent that long fixing your hair? For who? Blueberry brat?_

Ignoring another message telling Jongho to not call the manager of the establishment and complete stranger who seems "very nice and sweet" a brat, Jongho looked over to the bar as discretely as possible. To his surprise, the man managed to slip away completely, no trace of red sauce or proof that he was even there staring lasers through Jongho around. It almost made him shiver with how quick the stranger was to disappear without a trace, probably off of his break after spending it doing nothing but observing Jongho in the worst way imaginable. He wished he could've at least read the name of whoever seemed to be interested in him that much, the man only being known as Yeo-something as of now.

"Hey, sorry I took a bit." Jongho heard his roommate's hurried voice, watching as the other man appeared from around the corner sporting brighter skin and styled hair, a few strands of hair falling over his forehead. He already styled himself tonight, what was the point of doing it again? 

"You getting ready for a dick appointment? What's with the toner and slicked back hair?" Jongho questioned, annoyance seeping in through his usually soft tone. Seonghwa had the nerve to look embarrassed after the absolute travesty that Jongho sat through while his friend dolled himself up for who knows what, wondering when Seonghwa had the time to bring facial mist and gel. The older of the two sat down, smoothing a sheepish hand over his gelled hair

"I really didn't mean to take so long. My hair was sticking up, so I tried flattening it but it wasn't working. I ended up getting a little compulsive over it and decided to just slick it back, but then I thought 'Hey, while I'm here I should freshen up my face, too', and well- it turned into an ordeal." Seonghwa rambled, toying with his fingers. Jongho wouldn't put it past his friend to have a random spa day in a Hooter's bathroom, but he couldn't find it in his heart to be angry at Seonghwa when he looked so genuinely sorry. 

"Anyway, who's the weird guy I have to kill for you?" The word "kill" didn't suit Seonghwa's demeanor, round eyes widened enough to make him appear like a perfectly drawn animated prince.

Jongho took a sip of his water to clear the phlegm in his throat, preparing his brain to relive the traumatic sequence of events.

"Some cute guy over at the bar started staring at me, but it was fine for like the first five minutes until I realized 'Why the fuck is staring at me like that?' I texted your useless ass, then looked up to see him with the entire restaurant's supply of wings, and it's drenched in copious amounts of sauce, it was like Jesus's blood, or a crime scene I wasn't supposed to see- that much sauce just _lathered_ on-"

"Are the details about the sauce really so important you need to describe it through simile and metaphor?" Seonghwa interluded. Jongho glared at the interruption, not wanting to prolong the memory of Yeo-something undressing him with his eyes and ravishing wings like a rabid animal who hasn't seen sunlight in years.

"If you read your texts at all, you'd _know_ what happens next." Jongho bit. "I'm pretty sure he chewed through the bone while eating it, all while staring right into my eyes. God, his hands were so messy with sauce and grizzle, it was fucking _criminal."_

Seonghwa grimaced at the details of the stranger's unkempt hands. Jongho could tell his inner clean freak was disgusted. 

"Then he sucked it all off his fingers, still looking at me, by the way. Though I have to admit, it's impressive how he managed to keep his white clothes clean through all that." Jongho's throat ran a little dry after talking a mile a minute. He doesn't usually engage in long conversations or gossip, but he also doesn't usually go to a Hooter's on Thursday nights either. Today was just a day for new things, he supposes. 

"That's... an interesting way to flirt with someone." Seonghwa agreed. "You said he was cute, though. You never say that about people, especially ones who suck their fingers in front of you." 

"What? I never called him cute," Jongho lied. He does remember calling the strange employee cute, but he refuses to acknowledge the fact. He already has little to no dating experience, so someone attempting to flirt- or whatever that display of dominance was- didn't occur too often. What occurred even less often was Jongho finding someone physically attractive. 

"Anyway, your kitten is back. I see him bringing our food." 

Seonghwa's composure 180'ed, the man fixing his posture from the almost shrimp-like way his back curled while he sat. Jongho rolled his eyes, watching as the petite catboy arrived flashing his charming smile and floral scented perfume. It wasn't too strong, which Jongho appreciated, it was actually tasteful paired with the dress. He didn't expect the smell of fresh Hooter's barbeque wings to make his mouth water, hungrier than he anticipated. 

The wings were a familiar shade of reddish-brown, similar to the color of wings the stranger guzzled earlier, albeit lathered in a plausible amount of sauce. 

"These are made with the special recipe I mentioned earlier, I think you'll be surprised." Hongjoong set their entree on the glossy table, Jongho noticing the man had his fingers painted in a grungy black, three nails on one hand and two on the other. He seemed more eccentric than he let on. 

"Oh! Your hair is different." Hongjoong noticed, big eyes sparkling in curiosity. Seonghwa's foundation may have hid the blush on his cheeks, but Jongho could pick out all the nervous gestures from the way the older wrung his hands in his lap to the pained smile on his face.

"I- uh, it's a long story." Seonghwa was back to his sheepish self again, Jongho wondering where the bravado from earlier went. He probably flushed it away when he went to the bathroom. 

"You did it yourself?" Hongjoong questioned. Seonghwa nodded.

"It looks really good! The style frames your face really well, especially the strands you left out. It's tasteful combined with your makeup, too." Hongjoong sounded genuinely excited as he pointed out the smaller details of Seonghwa's hair, going on to artfully describe how the color suits his skin tone and outfit. It wouldn't be farfetched to assume the manager had a knack for fashion and art, especially since he looked wonderfully coordinated himself.

"Ah, well, I just like to style myself. Ever since middle school, I experimented with my sister's makeup and clothes. It was apart of my whole bi awakening." Seonghwa opted to fiddle with the long sleeves of his lavender shirt, tugging on a loose thread that stressed Jongho out the more he pulled on it. 

"Really? I majored in fashion when I was in college, so I have an eye for these kinds of things." Hongjoong winked, his voice bubbling with excitement as he talked about a passion of his. Jongho decided he was nice, although he still suspected there was a little devil in his seemingly pure soul somewhere. 

"You have nice taste as well. It's not flashy or anything, but the blazer and earth tones fit the season well." Jongho didn't expect Hongjoong to speak directly to him- in fact- this is first time the shorter man has spoken directly to him so far tonight. Muttering a 'thank you', Hongjoong and Seonghwa spent a few more seconds chatting idly, a contrast to earlier when they practically undressed each other with their eyes. It was actually nice to watch Seonghwa get comfortable with a stranger he liked, and Jongho thought the two would probably make decent friends if they saw each other more. Too bad the two would wouldn't be seeing much of each other. 

Hongjoong bid his goodbye, reminding them that he had other customers to serve and employees to watch and train. Now left with the famed barbeque wings, Jongho decided to satisfy his growling hunger, pushing the image of Yeo-something out of his brain as he bit into the tender wing. Whoever made the sauce clearly knew what they were doing, flavors of savory and sweet mingling into one to coat his taste buds in satisfaction. It was honesty worthy of being finger-licking good, Jongho doing exactly that as he finished his first wing.

The mental image of the blonde man in white intruded again as he licked his fingers clean, and he swore he saw a flash of a small golden ponytail leave his vision behind a corner. He would _definitely_ haunt Jongho's dreams tonight. Every time he blinked he saw those sharp, boxy eyes dusted in glitter staring holes into him, the crime scene amount of sauce coating his petite lips. 

Jongho decided he'd just order delivery if he ever wanted wings again.


	2. bottom text

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You remember me?" Seonghwa asked, voice dangerously close to trembling as much as his hands which were still precariously shoved into his ass pockets. 
> 
> "How could I forget a face like yours?" Hongjoong replied, expression morphing into a less-than-innocent smirk that turned the smaller angel of a man into a mischievous imp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's back  
> The moment you've all been waiting for  
> Hey besties I'm back after like 2 months  
> Look man I'm so tired and I posted so that's all that matters  
> I started working since the last chapter and then I had a crisis and life is a little ehhhhhhh but hey! New chapter

Seonghwa is a simple man with an aversion to confrontation and a general nervousness of everything around him that he should probably get diagnosed sooner rather than later. He's a wobbling baby deer in the body of a 178cm adult male body, and his resting bitch face gives off an air of faux dominance that hides the absolute cowardice he feels at heart. Confrontation isn't exactly a word in his daily vocabulary. Bold isn't either unless it's to emphasize the font on his Word document. 

He studied literature in college because of how mystifying it felt to have words play a tape in his head, to imagine horrific stories come to life as well as fantastical and romantic ones. He himself is a poor, sappy romantic anyway. Seonghwa still rewatches Sailor Moon and Ghibli movies wrapped in a thick, wool blanket when the colder seasons hit. It was his own form of escapism from the grueling responsibilities of being an official adult out of college, just getting by on freelance work and the luck of his roommate's parents being absolutely loaded. 

Seonghwa prides himself in being kind- in fact- too kind and very easy to take advantage of, but he never minds when it happens as long as he managed to be of use for once in his dull drag of a life. Jongho tells him it's not a great character trait to have, says it makes him a pushover or something, but Seonghwa stands by his morals to help anyone who asks. His heart was softer than a marshmallow over a fire. 

Despite his unfair, god-like statue carving of a face and a waist Jongho could wrap his hands around almost all the way (about 60cm if he remembers right), Seonghwa is modest, hiding away under jackets, blazers, and wool sweaters. He's cautious and a little picky with his fashion when it comes down to it, that much is true, but it's unusual for him to wear anything other than the same white sweater with black stripes along the collar (and one that's basically the same but the sweater is _black_ with white stripes). 

He always tried fitting into his surroundings with cardigans, hoodies, sweaters, and the same washed jeans and basic white sneakers. The most extravagant he got was dying his black hair into a weird shade of silvery lavender, which he almost regrets because the bleach irritated his scalp so bad Seonghwa would've rather gone bald. He doesn't know why he did it, he didn't even have a mental breakdown- _this_ time anyway- but maybe even Seonghwa needed some change in his quiet, almost boring doldrums of routine life.

That being said, it was rather unusual for Seonghwa to cancel his annual-rewatch-Ghibli movies plan in favor of going out in public. It was also unusual for Seonghwa to dress in a sheer, silky shirt that exposed his deep collarbones and the slightest bit of his tanned chest. He doesn't know why he went to Hooters anyway, a friend from college he occasionally keeps in touch with mentioned it in passing, but Seonghwa's curiosity didn't end there- not by a long shot. So he ended up dragging Jongho along so he wouldn't have to dine in some unfamiliar place all alone. 

The cherry on top of his strange change in routine was definitely _him_ \- the epitome of a socially-acceptable looking angel (not the bibliacally accurate ones) who also looked every bit of _sin_ dressed in mischievous cat ears and a satin collar. He gave off the vibe of a small, innocent young boy although the look in his eyes suggested he had experience over Seonghwa in every aspect of his life. The fluffy, sheep-like blue hair that grazed the tips of his rather long eyelashes gave the manager a mousey look, big eyes and pinkish upturned lips working in favor to absolutely _end_ Seonghwa's fragile, beaten heart. 

Seonghwa can't remember the last time he thought anyone was _this_ pretty, even his ex girlfriends and boyfriends didn't hold a candle to this man who was the manager of a _Hooters_ for fucks sake. Not only that, he's never met such an alluring combination of feminine and masculine in one person. The dress was one thing, but Seonghwa admits he may have stared at the protruding veins on the manager's hand as well, wondering how such a dainty, shorter-than-average man looked so much more rugged in that aspect. 

He's a little glad he dressed up to go out- Jongho be damned- although he'll never be sure what compelled him to in the first place.

Seonghwa always waited for people to come to him, it was his nature as a raging, socially anxious introvert, so _why?_ Why did he flirt (badly) with a man he's never met before? Even Jongho could tell something was up although he sure as hell didn't miss his chance to tease Seonghwa into a blushing, awkward mess. 

Why?

Why is he back here a week later at the same location dragging an extremely reluctant Jongho with him? Well, Jongho was only reluctant because of the chicken fiend he'd met a week ago, but Seonghwa promised to do all of his laundry and dishes for the month- although he practically already does anyway- so his younger friend was appeased.

"I can't believe we're back. I can't believe you dragged me here a second time, and I cant believe you're wearing _that_." Jongho definitely didn't sound appeased as he drank from his large root beer, acting like it was hard liquor that would equip his mental state enough to get through the night. 

Their waiter was different this time, no small blue manager to be seen, and Seonghwa wondered if he was even scheduled today. He might've even preferred Hongjoong just for the sole fact that their current waiter spilled half of Seonghwa's tea all over his own pleated skirt, muttering a hurried apology as he proceeded to spill the rest of it due to his worrying 8.0 magnitude hand tremors. He told the employee- Mingi- it was alright, but the rather tall man scurried away before Seonghwa could reassure him. He honestly felt too bad to ask for a refill. 

"What do you mean? What I'm wearing is fine." Seonghwa defended, although the material was a tad uncomfortable and scratchy.

"It's damn near freezing outside and you're practically naked with how much of your chest is out. You wearing a miniskirt would be more modest than _this_." Jongho did have a point, Seonghwa was shivering even in the ventilation of a restaurant. His black button-up was low cut, exposing his array of collarbones like last time along with the slight grooves of his back just below the nape. Seonghwa even topped it off with a few gold necklaces he didn't even know he owned, probably a few parting gifts from his mother. None of it was made for the colder seasons.

"What's with you recently? I've never seen you dress like this twice in a row. And why are we even back here? I have nightmares of this place now because of _him_." Jongho shuddered despite being clad in a cotton blazer and black turtleneck. Seonghwa honestly didn't remember much of his last visit, too disoriented with his poor life choices to mentally stay in reality. His only memories were of Hongjoong and the visceral need to speak to him, talk to him about what he likes, maybe ask him out? 

Yeah, he was getting way too far ahead of himself. He's met he manager a grand total of one time and only had a single conversation with no flirting or obligation for the blue-haired man to take his order. It's probably the hopeless, lovesick puppy in Seonghwa that feels the need to romanticize any and all human interaction, friendly or not. Jongho also told him that was a problem, too.

"Look, I don't know why I came back or why I'm not dressed in one of the same three sweaters I own. I just felt like acting on an impulse for once... I guess." Seonghwa sipped what was left of his spilled drink, toying with a straw so he didn't have to look Jongho in the eye.

"Acting on an impulse? Is it because you want to see Blueberry Muffin again?" Jongho was all too knowing, but Seonghwa guesses he's just that obvious as a person, too easy to read. "I mean, you seemed to hit it off with the single real conversation you guys had last time, but how are you going to talk to him again? Are you going to keep coming here and hope that he's your waiter? Find him and get his phone number?" 

Seonghwa didn't plan out _how_ he'd talk to Hongjoong again, he just came here knowing the petite man would be in his general vicinity, at least, he hoped the manager was here today. As for how he'll talk to him? Seonghwa has no idea and no answers to any of Jongho's questions. He's totally underprepared with his lacking social skills and fear of confrontation. 

"You don't know, do you?" Jongho stated more as a fact than a question. Seonghwa could only admit defeat as he shamefully nodded, but Jongho didn't press him further on his lack of a plan. It's not like his friend would have any ideas either, his latest action was getting harrassed by a chicken-eating devil and his previous relationship was basically nonexistent. 

"You're such a horny loser." Jongho teased, eyeing Seonghwa with the same disgust as he does with his numerous essays he complains about on the daily. Seonghwa didn't have a rebuttal- he certainly felt like a loser sitting there and twiddling his straw as he thought about a man he's met _once_. He isn't horny, though, and he hoped he wouldn't be- yet anyway. 

"I haven't even seen the guy all night, so your best bet is to be _that_ person and ask for the manager. He told us he's the manager, right?" Jongho suggested. Scratch that, Jongho did have ideas; bad ones.

"Jongho, I can't do that, I'm not going to cause unnecessary trouble for other people -" 

"You could always come back in another week or two when you get paid again and hope that _maybe_ you'll see him in passing, but would Hong-whatever-his-name-is even remember you then?" Jongho's idea actually wasn't the worst now that he gave it thought- it was better than Seonghwa's plan, which was no plan, but so many things could go so irreversibly wrong. Hongjoong could get mad at him for not having an actual complaint, Seonghwa could royally fuck up asking for a number like he always does, or another manager that isn't Hongjoong could speak to him, and sure, he could specifically ask for Hongjoong but-

"Alright, you're overthinking way too much. Don't send yourself into a panic, I can see the fucking veins on your forehead." Jongho advised, his tone no longer judgemental or pretentious. "Just don't think about it too much and do it if you're going to, I guess. If it doesn't work, we'll worry about it later- _if_ it doesn't work."

Seonghwa chewed his lower lip, regretting that he came here ready to risk it all and _for what?_ Did he really put himself in this situation just for some dick? He's not that kind of person to land himself a one-night-stand, but he's starting to understand himself less and less. He purposefully dressed like his image would suggest and acted like he was on top of the world when he first met the manager. Seonghwa isn't anything like what he's made himself out to be, effectively lying to the almost-stranger he's so cautiously seeking out. He's an imposter, and there's no way Hongjoong would ever stick around if he knew Seonghwa was a fake, a liar. He should probably just go home, forget the man even existed and move on. 

Hongjoong was really cool, though. The shorter man was everything Seonghwa isn't; confident, bubbly, a hobbyist, fashion-oriented, assertive. Maybe that's the aspect that entranced Seonghwa so much that he actively sought out the manager. But was it worth him expending all of his mental energy over nothing? He doesn't even really know Hongjoong, like, at all.

He supposes it's now or never.

"I'll- I'll give it a shot." Jongho raised his eyebrows, seeming as if he didn't expect Seonghwa to take initiative. Seonghwa didn't anticipate it either. "If someone takes our order, just get whatever you want."

"Go get him, champ." Jongho saluted him. 

Spotting one of the staff by the bar area that didn't seem too preoccupied, Seonghwa took a few shaky steps out of the warm comfort of his booth. He was doing this, and soon, there would be no going back. 

The man at the counter was fiddling with a few painted nails and occasionally wiping the countertop, black bangs obstructing his view almost completely. Seonghwa hoped the man would notice he was there without him having to clear his throat to speak up. The phlegm in his esophagus always betrayed him like that. 

Seonghwa walked at a modest pace, wondering if the universe would stop time for him if he moved slow enough to think or back out of Jongho's idiotic plan. The man was dressed more weather-appropriate than Seonghwa in a thick lavender turtleneck that grazed the point of his chin, sleeves exposing only his reddish fingertips. The bar counter covered his bottom half, but Seonghwa guessed he probably wasn't wearing anything with a pant leg.

Seeing as Seonghwa was one of the few patrons around the area, his presence wasn't completely overshadowed by the hustle and bustle of the restaurant. The man looked up in a practiced smile as his eyes met Seonghwa's approaching figure while putting on a customer service face. The dimples he sported definitely gave him a friendlier aura, Seonghwa thinks. His anxiety quelled a little at the man's summery smile- but only a little bit. He still had to carry out the rest of his plan and hope it _worked._

"How can I help you today?" the man asked, blinking more than the average person. It was probably because of his fluffy curtain of bangs that sat in his eyes, longer and thicker than Hongjoong's appeared to be. Swallowing the growing lump in his throat, Seonghwa went for his only chance.

"Yeah, um, can I speak to your manager?" Seonghwa's line delivery wasn't presented as intended, his voice a little too airy with phlegm and his inflection too formal. He suppressed the urge to cringe. 

"Sure! I don't have much to do right now, so I can take you right to him. He's in the office right now," the man obliged easily. "Our assistant manager isn't in today, but I'm sure the general manager will do just fine."

Well fuck. Whoever the assistant manager is better not be Hongjoong otherwise Seonghwa will be met with another situation he hasn't written a script for and recited at least five times in his head. Muttering an embarrassing, semi-audible "Thank you", Seonghwa let himself be lead by the employee. He was too focused on his main objective to look at the man's nametag, but he supposes being curious about it isn't important right now. 

Contrary to Seonghwa's belief, the employee was wearing pants; simple blue jeans and chunky white sneakers. It was similar to what Seonghwa usually wears, wondering how the man ahead of him appeared so confident while dressing like a twink. That's what Jongho would call him, anyway. After they left the first time last week, Seonghwa remembers Jongho saying _I've never seen so many bottoms in one place before._

The employee led Seonghwa through the noisier areas of the restaurant, moving past various tables filled with idle chatter and laughter. He walked past a familiar pink-haired host clad in a a gothic black choker, a drastic difference from his last visit. Seonghwa almost bumped into an employee sporting a blonde mullet and holding several arrays of trays lined across his arms, muttering a fast "Excuse me" before catching up with the lavender sweater ahead of him. The front was considerably more crowded than the back near the bar, the man leading him twisting and turning with a practiced grace as he weaved through the numerous tables and other employees. Seonghwa never knew a Hooters could be this huge. The place seemed to never end. 

"Staying with me over there? This time is usually when people start coming in swarms, which is a little annoying to deal with. It's rarely consistent." The man turned his head to give Seonghwa a comforting smile, slowing his pace to match his slower, clumsier strides. Their heights didn't bear much of a difference, Seonghwa being taller by a few centimeters although his longer legs didn't possess much of an advantage. 

"My name is San, by the way. I haven't seen your face around before, so you don't strike me as a regular." The man's eyes- or rather San's eyes- were trained on Seonghwa, somehow not crashing into anything as they continued to move forward. 

"Oh, um, last week was my first time here, actually." Seonghwa replied, trying not to crumble under San's concentrated gaze, looking like a fox ready to devour his prey. 

San gave an affirmative "Hm" to acknowledge Seonghwa's answer, sharp eyes continuing to drink up every detail of Seonghwa's face. It made him wonder if his eyeshadow was smudged or something. 

"You're cute. Objectively. I have a boyfriend, don't get me wrong." 

Seonghwa's heard typical flattery before- he's always been considered attractive much to his benefit growing up (although it left him room to develop a personality later). The compliment coming from another man- a pretty one too- did more things to his heart than he'd like to admit. He wondered if Hongjoong thought he was cute although it's probably just wishful thinking. Remembering that he'd have to (possibly) face the fun-sized manager soon, he broke out in a cold sweat, hoping he didn't look too shabby as he is right now.

Seonghwa still didn't know how to reply to compliments despite hearing them about his outward appearance a lot. Muttering a strained "Oh, um, thank you", San stopped in front of a door next to the kitchen. The matte wood of the door stood next to a window, blinds kept closed to ensure the manager's privacy. He was so close, but still so _far._ Wanting to hide his clammy hands, Seonghwa stuck them hastily in his back pockets, biting his bottom lip in nervous anticipation. 

"He usually keeps it locked, so knock on it a few times and tell him I brought you over here. I'd stay with you, but I can't leave the bar empty for too long. Dinner rush, and Wooyoung had to leave early for some emergency or whatever, so now I have to run the bar by myself. Wish me luck!" San clapped a hand on Seonghwa's shoulder, likely realizing it was a little too hard for a stranger and immediately pulling it away awkwardly. Seonghwa felt more awkward just by existing in a perceivable form. 

Waving a goodbye with his purple sweater paw, San eventually disappeared into the crowd of hungry patrons waiting for more than just food. Seonghwa was alone now, nervously staring at the wooden finish of the office door and trying not to throw up his tteokbokki he had for lunch. What is he even going to say? _Hello, remember me from last week? I came here to talk to you while you're working. In your office. Privately._ He has to make up a scenario, something believable to warrant him coming all the way to his private work area and then improv some shit from there. But what? 

_Hey, I'm here because I asked for the manager._ No, that means there's a problem, and nothing problematic happened besides getting his drink spilled, but the waiter looked too traumatized for Seonghwa to throw him under the bus like that. Why didn't San just bring Hongjoong to the bar area? Why did he bring him straight to the door? Too many questions, not enough time. 

_I'm here because you're cute and I liked the minuscule, minute, microscopic spark we had the last time we saw each other._ Fuck no, that's way too honest. His pits are beginning to sweat- how attractive- and now he probably looks like an idiot standing outside and doing nothing. Seonghwa is at a complete loss, and honestly, he's real tempted to just leave and accept defeat. He's worried he looks as much of a mess as he feels, wishing he could wear a mask within this very public and crowded vicinity where people are less than 6 feet apart to hide his petrified expression. 

A noise interrupted his slew of anxious thoughts, sending him into an even bigger panic when he noticed the doorknob was fucking _jiggling_ like it was about to open. Oh god.

Hongjoong is opening the door. He's _opening the door.  
_

Seonghwa looks like a deer caught in bright, neon, fluorescent headlights as the door slowly creaks open. He sees a sliver of pretty blue hair appearing in the crack, and then soon, Hongjoong is in front of him. Hongjoong in his entirety is in front of him, expression stricken with a surprise Seonghwa isn't sure is pleasant or mildly uncomfortable. 

Seonghwa might piss himself here and now, and that is definitely among one of the worst things that could happen in this scenario.

It doesn't help that Hongjoong is dressed in a black, short-sleeved shirt tucked into a plaid red skirt with stockings up to upper thigh. Soft bows adorned the lace trim of his stockings while various silver bracelets and piercings hung delicately from his body. His brick red eyeshadow shouldn't compliment his blue hair, but it does so well and Seonghwa might go into cardiac arrest from both stress and want. 

"Hey, I remember you from last week!" Hongjoong's eyes go round, eyelashes fluttering innocently beneath his sheepish bangs. Hongjoong remembers him? Park Seonghwa? He almost let out a sigh of relief had it not been for his utter disbelief. 

"You remember me?" Seonghwa asked, voice dangerously close to trembling as much as his hands which were still precariously shoved into his ass pockets. 

"How could I forget a face like yours?" Hongjoong replied, expression morphing into a less-than-innocent smirk that turned the smaller angel of a man into a mischievous imp. 

"Hmm, I don't know. I'm pretty forgettable, unless you say that to every handsome face you meet?" Oh god. What the fuck is Seonghwa doing. 

"Hey now, have you ever looked in a mirror?" Seonghwa swallows the urge to say _unfortunately._ "Your face structure alone is so unique on its' own. Definitely not like any generic average Joe." 

Seonghwa's been called attractive, pretty, handsome, beautiful, sure. But _unique_ is a new one, although it doesn't necessarily always mean a good thing. The word makes Seonghwa feel less like an object to glance at and more like he's being seen, perceived. 

"What brings you here? Need more menu recommendations?" 

Oh, right. Seonghwa still needed to strike up a riveting conversation that would eventually lead into a smooth exchanging of phone numbers. His brain fries at the question, Hongjoong's words not even vibrating through his cranium enough to process them. He's a smooth-brained chimp.

"Oh, right, uh..." Fuck. His facade is slipping away at the fingertips, said fingertips coated in so much movie-popcorn butter it'd be impossible to ever recover. Sizzle, goes his fried egg brain. He supposes he should probably just be himself, but when has that ever worked out for him? Then again, does he really want to lie to Hongjoong about his hot guy shit persona? The smaller man most likely saw through it anyway. 

"I never caught your name, did I?" Hongjoong asks, question directed more at himself than at Seonghwa. "I'm Kim Hongjoong, but I'm sure you can read the nametag just fine." 

Seonghwa bites the urge to say he can in fact read, and _well_ considering he chose it as his major and even began writing a short novel out of boredom. Will it ever be published? No. Seonghwa is nonetheless glad for the save, wondering if Hongjoong caught on to his inability to hold a conversation if he hasn't known the person he was talking to for at least two years. 

"I'm Park Seonghwa. Backwards, it's Hwaseong, so I also go by Mars sometimes." He actually hasn't gone by Mars since his student council days in high school, but he supposes a fresh identity wouldn't hurt. The more pressing matter at hand was that Hongjoong now knew his name which meant plot progression in his point of view. How many more steps until they became more than awkward almost-acquaintances that sometimes flirted in the middle of a Hooters? How many more chapters in his life would that take? 

"Mars, huh? That's a cool nickname, but I like Seonghwa more. It has a certain, soft elegance to it." Elegant wasn't a word people usually described Seonghwa as, and Hongjoong's attention to smaller details both unnerved his crippling social ineptitude and excited his raving author brain. He's surprised talking to Hongjoong has lasted more than five seconds, but Seonghwa knows better than to push his luck- what was left of it, anyway.

"Back to my question, though. Do you need anything?" Hongjoong asks again, voice laced with greater urgency for an answer than before, probably since he's about to be busy as all hell. Seonghwa had caught him while he was in the process of leaving his office, inferring that _oh, he has things to do and I interrupted him at an inconvenient time._ Seonghwa's excuse needs to be a good one. There was sort of a tiny problem with that, though. 

Seonghwa had no _real_ reason. 

Does he shoot his shot and hope Hongjoong will somehow be charmed by his pathetic advances? Does he say _oops, nevermind!_ Does he actually complain about the poor sap of a waiter from earlier? What if Hongjoong didn't even like men and Seonghwa just assumed he might because he works at a femboy Hooters? How does this place even exist to begin with?

His brain is short-circuiting, and he knows he's taking a millenia and a few eons to reply seeing as how Hongjoong raised a perfectly trimmed brow in anticipation. 

"Yes, actually. Um," he starts off badly. "I was wondering if I could... Um." Fuck. This isn't going well. He swallows and speaks again.

"I was wondering if I could get a job here? Are you guys hiring?"

What.

Well, _that_ wasn't what Seonghwa was planning to say at all. It seemed Hongjoong was just as taken aback by the rather odd question that took entirely too long to spit out. He took a little pride in the realization that he was the one who rendered Hongjoong speechless for once, although it wasn't due to anything spectacular and entirely because Seonghwa lacked proper social vernacular. 

"Oh- wow, I wasn't expecting that. Are you sure about working here, though? Are you okay with wearing specific types of clothing while dealing with the public? It seems fun, but this job makes my hair fall out more than the bleach I use sometimes." 

Seonghwa wasn't sure what to say to any of those. He wasn't even sure what he was getting himself into. A job? Really? He is only a freelance writer at the moment, but the job description was everything Seonghwa isn't; flashy clothes, outgoing, socially conscious- and he knows Hongjoong knows it too. 

"Maybe we can talk it over first?" Seonghwa suggests as if he isn't just desperately finding a way out of the six-foot hole he dug himself. The mental gymnastics was enough to put him into a cryogenic slumber. 

"Of course! We'll look at some details in my office." Hongjoong opens his door, motioning for Seonghwa to go in first. Didn't Hongjoong have things to do if he was the only manager in today when it's this busy? A part of him didn't really care, panicking at the prospect of lying his way through wanting a job but excited nonetheless because _bark bark, Hongjoong._

Fiddling with his sleeve, Seonghwa steps in.

_____

Jongho is bored. It's the intense kind of boredom someone gets when they could technically _do_ something but their mind just can't wrap around it enough to execute it. Nothing on his phone is interesting, he really doesn't want to study for his upcoming exam in three days, and he's been left alone at _Hooters._ He knew he'd end up sitting around, but he's already ordered food enough for two people while being the only one sat at the booth tucked away into a lonely corner. It seems this side of the restaurant wasn't as busy as the others yet.

"Where'd your friend go?" It's the tall, awkward waiter from earlier again, probably making small talk so that Jongho would forget the fact that there's a large sweet tea stain on his pink skirt. 

"He's around," Jongho replies vaguely. Seonghwa might not even be around; he could be in the back fucking the man that looks like a blue Littlest Pet Shop for all he knows. 

"O-oh. Well, I'll get this order right out for you!" The waiter clambers over his words, turning away in a less-than-graceful swivel that has him nearly tripping over his gangly legs. Jongho almost feels a little bad for intimidating the tall man who is obviously a degree of socially anxious, but he's almost _annoyed_ at being stuck in one spot without anything to do. Other waiters are happily chatting with patrons, some on break even sitting down with them and laughing as if they know each other.

The man in purple who took Seonghwa to the manager was vigorously dancing some girl group choreo at the bar while his audience cheered with an almost hungry attention. Dear god. He really wonders how this place works. 

Maybe he should text Seonghwa? If he yelled at him enough over Instagram DMs, then maybe he'd haul his little ass back here out of fear that Jongho would stop paying for his half of the rent. He wouldn't actually do that, but the threat sounds enticing enough. 

Do they serve alcohol here? Jongho is no lightweight, and he's not about to get wasted sitting alone while his friend claps ass, but anything might help the dregs of boredom and unease of being so sorely out of place. 

A cynical part of his brain wants the light fixture to fall on him, or have some random flying baseball knock him out so he didn't have to deal with tagging along with his awkward friend just so he could have one last conversation with some poor manager. _The things he does for his friends._ Or- _friend_ considering Jongho has only one he really speaks to. Now he just feels like a loser. 

"Are you sitting here alone?" 

A deep voice vibrates through Jongho's eardrums, the sound melodic and lulling, catching him off guard at its' velvety tone. It was almost a pleasant surprise to his brain receptors had it not been for the owner of it. Turning around, Jongho was met with the visual of familiar boxy eyes dusted in glitter and long blonde hair (slightly fried from bleach) laying flat against the man's neck. Once again, Jongho was blinded by a seering, off-white wardrobe, the familiarity unwelcome. 

It was _him._

The chicken fiend. The devourer of souls. The saucy vixen who harrassed Jongho's eyes just by eating a few wings. Yeo-something is _back_ , and Jongho honestly can't decide between bolting for the exit or calling Hongjoong over himself, Seonghwa be damned.

Why does he always seem to be alone when the man was on break? This should be a time where all hands are on deck for the roaring dinner rush, but Jongho doesn't have the time to question the specifics, because the stranger has, once again, a bucket of over-sauced fried chicken. The sight of the thickened sauce makes Jongho lose whatever semblance of an appetite he had, plunging like his grades after he turns in his shitty essay on why poor people deserve to drown. The essay wasn't really about that, but Jongho doesn't pride himself on being the Stock Market Guy anymore so that's all he sees his major as.

"I brought a friend with me if that's what you're asking. He's on his way back." Jongho bluffed. With any luck, Seonghwa might actually be coming back sometime soon, but he has a feeling the stranger won't let him off that easy.

"Oh? That's a shame-" Yeo-something paused, Jongho celebrating a premature victory. "-Guess I'll have to make this quick, then." 

Completely uninvited, the public menace slides in across Jongho, shoving Seonghwa's jacket aside to create room that wasn't meant for him. Setting the avalanche of chicken on the table, the man begins digging in, locking darkened eyes with Jongho whose neurons were still processing what the hell was happening. The audacity, the boldness, the weird _confidence_ of it all made Jongho's head reel, and if he was being honest, it almost impressed him. Almost. The man's eye contact was still too disturbing to muster any praise, and Jongho doesn't think the stranger even blinked yet. 

"Hey handsome cereal box, don't look so horrified. I'm gorgeous, you're thick and strong looking, I think we could get along. I'm Yeosang by the way." Yeosang winked, plunging his dainty, manicured fingers into the bucket. 

Did he just call Jongho a _cereal box?_ Jongho knows he's not petite and slim like Seonghwa, but he doesn't think he's shaped like a _box_. Is he? Jongho shouldn't care about some crackpot Hooters employee's opinion, for now he just needed to get the other man away before he starts force feeding him chicken or something of that nature. What's _truly_ terrifying is the high likelihood of that happening, the vibes were entirely askew and Jongho isn't prepared for whatever Yeosang had in mind for him.

"I didn't say you could sit here." Jongho narrowed his eyes, thinking _Yes! Don't fall for his conventionally attractive looks like some shallow scumbag!_. The reply only conjured a suggestive twinkle in Yeosang's eyes, which before, only seemed to hold arson in them. 

"You're funny. Anyways, your friend doesn't seem to be coming back anytime soon. That hot guy with the weird hair color from last time? Bumped into him on the way here serving drinks. I took an early break time, but I'm sure my boss is a little _preoccupied_ to notice at the moment."

Damn it. Jongho agrees to be Seonghwa's emotional support human twice against his will and now the older man is nowhere to be found. See if Jongho decides to let him stay in his apartment anymore. Well, technically it's his _parent's_ under legal documentation and ownership, but Jongho is still fully capable of kicking Seonghwa's flat ass out at the drop of a pin. 

Yeosang's eyes flit to the impossibly drenched wing in his hands, sauce underneath his hot pink fingernails and smeared around the corners of his mouth. Did he think this was supposed to be sexy? 

"Tragic, yes. But I'm here now to relieve your boredom, so come on; tell me you're just as smitten with me as I am with you." Yeosang's pink tongue darts out to lap at the sides of his mouth. His small mouth and miniature fangs might've been endearing had it not been for Jongho looking past the surface level of him as a human being. How was this lunatic even hired? Yeosang gave off the vibe of an escaped prisoner whose crime was arson and at least four hit and runs. 

_Mama I'm in love with a criminal_ starts to invade his mind, and although Jongho strongly supports Britney Spears' happiness and safety, he has never once listened to this song by his own accord. He blames it on Seonghwa blasting it at night, the discography invading Jongho's subconscious at the worst of times. Exhibit A: right now.

"I-I don't even know you. Last time I was here you just stared at me and made a mess of yourself, kind of like what you're doing right now, actually." Jongho seeps as much cynical sarcasm into his words as he can muster, but anything he says only seemed to fuel Yeosang more- and Yeosang's hunger for that matter. Half the bucket was now picked clean, and Jongho doesn't know how or when that happened when it was almost overflowing five minutes ago. 

"Yeah yeah, I admit my tactics aren't... traditional, to say the least." Yeosang pauses, reaching for a napkin to finally, _finally_ wipe his grimy little paws, but much to Jongho's dismay, he stops in his tracks. 

"My hands are so messy, I wonder how I'll.... clean them up."

God, this conversation feels like a badly scripted porno. 

"Use... the napkin?" Jongho suggests foolishly, and Yeosang makes sure to let him know how foolish a proposal it was. He giggles dryly, a deep and staccato _ha ha ha_ that makes the hair on Jongho's beefy arms raise. His voice was unfairly deep for a man shaped like a pubescent teenage boy. 

Giving one of his fingers a kitten lick, Yeosang continues. "You're so oblivious, but that's what makes you cute. You're such a clueless straight harem protagonist archetype."

Jongho doesn't know what to say to that. He's never met someone as enigmatic as the man before him. Devouring chicken, shameless flirting, poorly timed innuendos, and a staring problem? How did Yeosang's father's sperm win the race to create this monstrosity? 

"I'm gonna make this simple for you-" Jongho bites back the primal urge to mutter _yes or yes_ , blaming the urge entirely on Seonghwa's endless girl group playlist. "-My fingers. Your mouth. I want to know if your tongue is as strong as the rest of you."

Yeosang doesn't appear to be joking, and Jongho's brain is absolutely _deep-fried_ as he tries to comprehend the present. He's having an out of body experience, a fever dream. There's no way someone just asked him to suck their fingers after calling them a cereal box, _there's no way_. The stranger's quirks aside, no one usually hit Jongho up, especially not for anything suggestive. He chalks it up to Yeosang obviously not being a human being and instead being an alien immigrant who doesn't understand how Earthlings work. That, or he was born last week. 

"Wh- I don't- why would you- What?" Jongho manages to pathetically stutter.

"Don't worry, I washed my hands. I mean the sauce is there now, but that's why I'm asking you to the fix the problem. Understand?" Yeosang cocks his head innocently, a complete wolf in sheep's clothing. 

"No, I really don't." Suddenly, what Yeosang said about his character archetype makes sense now, but who can blame him? 

"Look, we're in a secluded area, my hands are more or less clean, your friend is occupied, I'm cute as fuck, you're a catch. What's there to question?" Jongho wants to scream _a lot_ at the top of his vocally trained classical lungs, but the objection never comes.

Nothing's really stopping him from saying _Hey, you're making me really uncomfortable and I'd like for you to please leave_ , not that it would invalidate him if he didn't. But he really doesn't feel uncomfortable, just off-kilter, and that's probably ten times scarier than whatever hole Yeosang managed to claw his way out of. 

"I've never sucked a complete stranger's fingers in the back of a Hooters before, or even considered foodplay for that matter. You'll have to forgive my poor technique." Jongho wants to bash his head against the table. 

"You're loosening up, that's more like it! Just pretend I'm your dentist and say 'ah'." Yeosang reached a veiny hand over the table, the stranger's grubby, sauced mitts inching forward.

"I didn't say I was cool with a dentist rolepl-" Yeosang shuts him up effectively, two fingers pads pressing against the flat of Jongho's tongue while his mouth was still open from speaking. Jongho's mouth is still hanging open, eyes blown wide as he observed Yeosang's indifferent nonchalance. Neither of them are moving away. 

What does he do? Why isn't he pulling away? Why does he want to seem like he's had any experience despite being a flaming, neon-painted virgin? 

Yeosang tuts, a sigh escaping his reddened lips, raw from licking them clean.

"Is this all you have to give me? Come on big boy, that tongue must be useful for something." Oh, so he can be manipulative too when it suits him. Yeosang has too many colors to keep up with, and the only objectives that appeared in Jongho's mind were _suck his fingers, be done, forget it happened, kick Seonghwa's ass_. Absolute brain rot was melting Jongho's mind like it was dunked in a vat of acid- or rather- a deep fryer that insisted on making Jongho's useless lump of head meat into burnt chicken. 

Jongho closed his plump lips around the digits, swirling his tongue and tasting honey barbecue right off of Yeosang's pallid skin. Grazing his teeth over a knuckle, Jongho bit in, contemplating if he should just bite it off and make a run for it. 

Yeosang seemed to like his air of rebellion, a suppressed, guttural noise seemingly lodged in his throat. Jongho is having an honest _effect_ on the other man, and if he was going to be honest, it was doing something to him too. Jongho can't lie to himself, the man across from him had a weird grip on him, even if it may just be some strange mind control magic- or rather- it _is_ mind control. 

After a few more seconds of wondering what life choices have led up to this point in time, Yeosang removes his hand, licking the rest of the sauce clean himself, making sure to go over what Jongho already did. Ew.

"You don't know if I have diseases, I wouldn't have done that if I were you." Jongho suggested, too late as Yeosang already cleaned himself up like a deranged, rabid feline. 

"If you were me, you'd do a lot more than this." Jongho doesn't question what that means and decides Yeosang has a fair point. 

A sudden vibration interrupts Jongho's pondering and inevitable shame that began to seep in ever so slowly. It was most likely a notification for college assignments and the like, but if he thought quick enough, maybe Jongho could think of an excuse to get Yeosang to leave and figure out he's going to live with himself for the rest of his natural life. 

"Give me a minute, it might be my friend." Jongho sure hopes it's his helpless friend, anyway. Yeosang nods, eyes not betraying any emotion and remaining a stony gaze. 

Rummaging in around in his pocket for the phone a little too hastily to seem natural and unlocking it, Jongho decides he may as well start believing in a god. There in his sad and dry messages read a text from Seonghwa. Soon, Jongho could return to forgetting this ever happened and moving on with the rest of his college career guilt and shame-free. Or so he thought, anyway. 

_Hey, sorry I took a while. I kind of have an interview here tomorrow, so could you drive me? Xoxo love you_

Nevermind. When he gets back, Jongho is going to beat Seonghwa's ass with enough force to cook an entire chicken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahahahshahah where do u guys predict this is going?  
> I said this was crack treated seriously dont @ me about the Finger Sucking  
> My vocabulary is limited and I have a smooth brain so pls have mercy on me  
> Also I barely proof read this so if its absolute shit or Yeosang is spelled as Yeosnag then lo siento

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment I need validation


End file.
